


Distress

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Distress

“I trusted you.”

“I said I’m sorry Pipes, what more do you want?”

“I was gone for a weekend, Pen. I loved them more than anything in the world,” Piper clamoured as they walked into the conference room. “And now they’re dead because of you.” Hotch and Gideon observed the heated discourse between Piper and Penelope.

“I didn’t mean to kill them.”

“So, it’s my fault you poured the wrong amount of water on Felix? I left **very** specific instructions.”

“It was a mistake and I said sorry. I even bought you a new one.”

“What? You just replaced Felix? What about Jemima? No, Penelope, you didn’t even tell me. There I was, enjoying my weekend in New York with my sister, not knowing that Felix was dead and Jemima was broken. You know what, I hope all your future cat children die so you know how it feels.” Emily just stared at them. “Don’t look at me like that. She killed my children and then replaced them. You watched me water two fake plants for 3 ½ weeks!” Morgan sniggered. Even Hotch was smiling. “You know what, Penelope, payback’s a bitch,” she huffed.

^-^

“Houston’s Fifth Ward accounts for a large per cent of the city’s growing homicide rate, due to gang violence and a bustling narcotics trade. Although in the last 48 hours, there have been 3 distinctive murders in the ward. ”

“Distinctive?” Morgan raised his eyebrow, handling his cup of coffee, perched on the table.

“3 men, 3 different socioeconomic groups, All killed on the street with their necks snapped,” JJ answered, pointing to the 3 bodies on the screen. The small group of gathered agents looked back as they heard the footsteps of the tall, lanky agent lumbering towards them, sipping from his mug, holding pertinent case files close to his hip. “There appears to be no other injury,” JJ continued as Emily glanced at the young doctor who plopped down next to her. Piper couldn’t help noticing the dark circles under his eyes. “And there’s no apparent connection between the victims or motive. The ward’s detectives are inundated with homicides. Gang violence is a big problem. Shootings, armed robberies, it’s an everyday occurrence, But this type of street attack Is new to them,” she finished, conscious of Reid not making eye contact.

“Could it be gang-related,” Emily suggested. “Maybe some new type of initiation rite?”

“The gangs in the ward use guns. In fact, no known gangs exhibit this type of M. O.”

“What about dope? These guys come up with pretty freaky ways of killing the competition to get their message out,” Derek pointed out.

“Except there just doesn’t seem to be any connection between the victims and the drug world. A homeless man, a construction worker and a security guard,” Piper contradicted.

“Just 3 dead men and no witnesses.”

“We’re looking for a homicidal serial criminal in a neighbourhood populated by criminals. The challenge will be separating him from the rest,” Hotch deliberated.

“So, we have no evidence, no apparent interaction between the unsub and the victims pre or post-mortem and an indistinguishable M. O.,” Spencer scoffed, speaking for the first time. “Should be simple.”

^-^

> “Our life is made by the death of others.” Leonardo Da Vinci

^-^

On the jet, the group mulled the case over. Though Piper wanted to focus on the case, she couldn’t help noticing the tension in Spencer. He was sitting in the corner as opposed to his usual seat in the centre of the jet, pen and pad in hand. Scolding herself for overthinking things, she moved her attention to Morgan. “What’s bugging you?”

“We got a construction worker, an outsider in the community. We got a security guard. That’s an authority figure. And then we got a homeless man,” he said, gazing at the pictures in his hand. “That’s a powerless victim that no one would notice missing. So who’s he targeting?”

Spencer rubbed his pen in his hand. “He used blitz attacks,” Spencer ruminated. “Which means he most likely lacks the interpersonal skills he needed to coerce his victims into coming close. He also used the element of surprise, which means he may have stalked his victims prior to killing them.”

“Well, if that’s the case," Derek said, nodding. "I want to go to the last crime scene to see where he may have been hiding.”

“I want to see the neighbourhood for myself,” Gideon added. “I’ll go with you.”

“Good, the rest of us will go to the precinct and set up shop. Bishop," Hotch directed. "I want to know everything about our victims.”

“There may not be a lot about our homeless victim,” she speculated. Though she didn’t like it, many states didn’t like homelessness statistics and preferred to stay blind to them. “I’ll need records from homeless shelters and everything Social Security may have on him.”

“Get Garcia to help you with it.”

“I’ll map out the area and see if I can find any places the victims would have visited in the neighbourhood,” Reid offered.

“Good, maybe we can find a connection between them. I’ll help you with that,” Emily added.

“I can handle it,” he retorted. Morgan and Bishop looked at him strangely.

“I wasn’t suggesting that you couldn’t,” Prentiss tried to correct herself.

“Isn’t that what ‘I’ll help you with it’ means?”

“Reid,” Hotch intervened. “Prentiss will help you with the geographical profiling.”

“Fine.”

“Remember, this is a high crime area. Be vigilant. Nobody goes anywhere alone.” Piper sat up straighter at Hotch’s words and glanced back at Spencer who was looking down at his file, failing to subtly itch his face. Shaking herself, she looked back down at the three victims she was supposed to know. She kept profiling the wrong person and she had to focus on the case.

^-^

Reid scanned his blueprint of the city, his back to Prentiss’s eyes watching him and Bishop glancing at files and scribbling under the three pictured victims. Emily turned as JJ walked in holding a plate of, “Homemade cookies?”

“One of the detectives’ wives made us cookies,” JJ answered, chewing on her own. Piper gasped, abandoning her profile for the sweet baked goodie.

“I worked in Texas for a year. No-one ever made me a cookie.” Piper grumbled. “I just got offered play-doh food and mud pies from my neighbour’s kids when I’d babysit.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what they mean by southern hospitality.”

“What are you saying?”

“Southern hospitality,” Emily repeated, smiling.

“I need to concentrate… How can anybody hear with all this work going on?” Reid scrambled to close the window.

“Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it,” JJ said. Reid’s new attitude wasn’t lost on anyone. “Construction crews are working around the clock.”

“Yeah, we saw it on the way in,” Emily added. Piper’s eyebrows furrowed at Reid as he scratched under his chin.

“City’s trying to return to its splendour, and that means that Houston’s poorest are being kicked out of their homes,” JJ explained, waving her cookie as she talked. Piper mulled it over as Gideon and Morgan walked in.

“Unsub might be homeless. Appears to have been living in a building next to where the security guard was attacked.” Piper wrinkled her forehead.

“These are the locations of the last 3 murders,” Spencer pointed out to Gideon, “all near abandoned buildings.”

“He knows the neighbourhood, he may have been recently displaced,” Hotch said, gazing at the map.

“Could be a motive. Construction worker, a security guard at a construction site,” Emily suggested. “Payback?”

“What about the homeless man?”

“We get a lot of beef down there among the homeless. That one could have just been a fight about space or food,” the detective offered.

“Let’s get a list of residents who’ve been kicked out of their homes by the gentrification,” Gideon said. “You and Reid check out the shelters,” he told Prentiss.

“We’re on it. Unless…” She got up. “You okay with that Reid?”

“I’m fine with that.”

“We should check to see if there are any mental hospitals in the area, maybe someone who was recently released into the streets,” said Hotch.

“JJ and I can do that, maybe narrow down the number of released residents,” Piper offered. JJ wiped her hands and grabbed a pencil.

Hotch nodded. "Good, you'll be used to the jargon. Morgan, can you cover the police records for the last week? If it’s someone who’s been recently made homeless, He might have stolen food, comfort items, blankets, toiletries. We might be able to track a pattern of theft.”

^-^

“I have no idea what’s gotten into Spencer. He’s never been like this with Emily.” JJ was pacing next to Piper who was checking resident reviews.

“I mean, he was abducted by an unsub who had a split psyche and then watched him die. That changes a person.” She grabbed another cookie.

“That much?”

“Mhmm. I mean, I can’t even imagine still doing this job after that. I’m surprised he didn’t just leave after what happened.”

“You expected him to quit?” Piper put her pen down.

“When Gideon told Garcia to shut down the audience Hankel was getting, I was about to quit, and I wasn’t even the one he took.” She snorted at JJ’s expression. “The point is, the job asks us to do things beyond just catching the unsubs. It asks us to ignore our morals for the sake of saving someone else. Spencer knew that. All I know is that the guy, despite appearances, is strong. He just needs time to adjust and Emily’s the one taking the heat,” Piper smiled sadly.

“Hey, Hotch,” JJ called as he walked in. “We’ve been looking at the medical records and there’s a possibility he wasn’t admitted at all. More than half of these people were admitted by a parent or sibling and at least 70% against their will.”

“You know what bugs me?” Piper tapped her marker on her chin. “Snapping a person’s neck is theoretically the most efficient way to kill someone, but you’d have to incredibly strong to do it.”

“What do you mean?” Hotch looked over at her.

“To break a person’s neck fatally, in theory, would involve swift flexion and extension with rotation, whilst neck muscles are relaxed and with ridiculous force.” She got up and stood behind him. She gently placed her hands underneath her ear, her rings cold against his skin. “If you twist someone’s neck,” as she proceeded to demonstrate, “their body moves with the head.” She let go. “The other, unlikelier option is he faced them.” Piper moved in front of him. “The unsub could have placed the bottom of his palm under his chin, like so,” she demonstrated, “and shoved upwards. We’re looking for someone strong, possibly with some form of physical training. He’s efficient,” she said. “even if the patients all relapsed during their release and were homeless at the same time, none of them have the clinical efficiency of the killer.”

^-^

“Just got back from the local homeless shelter. The administrator hasn’t noticed anyone new displaying aggressive behaviour,” Reid informed Hotch.

“I just talked to Gideon and Morgan. They think that he’s killing to protect some makeshift shelter of his own.”

“So are we ready for a profile yet?” Emily looked at her boss.

“We’re missing something,” Hotch ruminated. “How did this homeless man learn to kill so efficiently?”

“You know what we need?”

“We need to get lucky. We need him to make a mistake,” Hotch murmured to them.

“So what, we just let him keep killing until he does something out of character?” Reid questioned before walking off outside.

“Hey, Hotch,” Piper popped her head out the door. “Should we check places that provide military skills?”

“Emily can do that, I need you to do something for me. Personal favour,” he explained. As Emily left to the break room, Piper walked up to Hotch. “I need you to check on Reid. Something’s up and I think he’ll talk to you.” He started to follow Emily.

“Boss,” she stopped him. “I can’t promise to tell you if he does say something.” The young woman left to comfort her friend.

^-^

She found Spencer sitting on a bench outside and plopped down next to him. She waited quietly for a few minutes before starting. “Did you know different drugs and substances will have different withdrawal symptoms and timelines, depending on how they interact with the brain and body? Drugs are absorbed and remain active in the body for differing amounts of time. It’s referred to as the drug’s 'half-life.’ It, uh, relates to the different withdrawal timelines for each substance.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let me finish. With prescription opiates, withdrawal starts in 8-12 hours, peak in 12-48 hours, and lasts 5-10 days. You think I haven’t dealt with addicts before?” She made eye contact with her colleague, in pain at being unable to help. “The irritability, lateness, the itching, the odds that you haven’t slept since I got you back.” Spencer sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to push you Spence, but I want you to talk to me.” He looked at her.

“I didn’t want to be-” He paused, searching for the right word.

“Babied? It’s better than having a friend think you hate her.”

“Hotch wouldn’t have let me back on if he knew.”

“Tell me something.” Piper bumped his shoulder gently. “How long have you been clean?”

“Since the incident,” he murmured.

“I want to help Spence, but only if you let me. And it’s fine if you don’t want it. Plus, if you think Hotch is never gonna find out, you’re not as brilliant as I thought you were. Just promise me you will get some help.” She kissed him on the cheek and held her hand out.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re walking to the coffee shop there and getting a round for everyone. You’re going to give Emily one and say you’re sorry, that you haven’t slept well. And then, when the case is over, you’re coming over to my place and we are going to watch reruns of Doctor Who. Sound good?” He smiled weakly and took it.

^-^

“Please help my daddy!” JJ heard the young girl scream and flitted over to see the father with blood streaming from his nose.

“Can I get some help here, please?” JJ yelled over to the officers.

“Please… Call my house to come get my daughter. Please.”

^-^

Emily and Hotch sat next to the little girl, Bishop leaning against the wall in the corner listening intently.

“Maria, esta bien,” Emily consoled her.

“Is my papa gonna be ok?” She looked at Hotch hopefully as she asked in a small voice.

“Yes,” answered Hotch, hands folded, elbows resting on his knees.

“Maria, could you answer a few questions for us?” The little girl looked up at Emily. “It would really help us find the bad guy.” She nodded ever so slightly.

“Did he say anything to your papa?”

“No,” she answered faintly.

“What were you and your papa doing before the bad guy came?”

“Papa took out the garbage. And then he jumped out… And he hit my papa. I was screaming at him. I thought he was gonna hit me, too. But then he stopped… And he looked at me funny.” Piper moved, interested.

“Did he look sad, Maria?” She nodded at Piper.

“He did say something. Not to my papa, to me,” Maria remembered. “He said, ’Are you ok? Why are you crying?’ And then we ran.” Piper looked at Hotch. She nodded to him and rushed to the others.

^-^

“We’re looking for a tall, white, married man, probably with or working around children in which case he has a home but won’t go,” Piper mused to Spencer and Emily.

“Why?” Spencer looked at her.

“Could be amnesia, linked to head trauma.”

“Hospital records?”

“For this level of amnesia?”

“Stroke, brain inflammation, respiratory distress, Wernicke-Korsakoff syndrome, tumours, degenerative brain diseases and seizures.”

“Too many and some of them are too common, what about dissociative psychogenic amnesia?” Piper noted. “It’d affect him sporadically, but if he’s constantly around a trigger reminding him of an event that caused emotional shock or trauma, he could react-” She stopped as Spencer smushed her lips with her finger.

“Listen.” She pulled it away. They listened to the banging and crashing of rubble and bricks “The construction work,” he discerned.

“What does that sound like to you if you had amnesia?” Before Spencer could answer, JJ entered.

“Garcia’s on the line for us,” she announced.

“Thank god, I was about to kill myself after listening to their IQs,” Emily sighed in relief. Piper scowled and narrowed her eyes.

_“All right, cowgirls and boys. I’ve got the comparison satellite images of the before and after pictures, and I found something. Check it.”_

They leaned over Piper and Hotch’s shoulder to observe the screen.

“ _Do you see it yet?_ ”

“Yeah, the SOS,” Hotch pointed.

“Oh, I’m so thick,” Piper walked away, slamming her palm against her head. “How did I not see it?”

“Huh?”

“The SOS, the chaos outside, the amnesia, his efficiency, we need to be looking for a war veteran.”

^-^

“He thinks he’s in a war zone.”

“The constant drilling sounds like gunfire. It’s an auditory trigger,” Piper piped up from behind Hotch.

“ _The quick strikes are consistent with the trained military,_ ” Morgan connected from the phone. “ _He believes he’s eliminating enemy soldiers._ ”

“He must have served in a place that looked or sounded like this ward. He may not even be aware he’s killing innocents.”

“ _Now, how’s that?_ ” The detective asked.

“When soldiers suffered from anxiety, depression, and flashbacks in World War I, it was called shell shock,” explained the ex-history teacher. “In World War II, it was referred to as battle fatigue. Now we refer to it as PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a side effect of which is slipping into dissociative states.”

“The mind divorces itself from reality so it can cope with the trauma,” Reid continued.

“ _He’s reliving a memory. He’s trapped in his head in some war zone, hiding and defending himself from the enemy,_ ” Gideon considered.

“We should check missing person reports, JJ,” Hotch announced. “It would have been filed recently, the last 2 or 3 days.”

^-^

“Why do you keep doing that?” Emily looked at Piper refilling her cup of tea.

“Doing what?” She leant down to grab the container of sugar.

“Back in there, when you figured out he was a war vet. You called yourself thick.”

Piper twirled the spoon in her TARDIS mug. “Umm, I get, like, this inner voice. It just keeps um…second-guessing me. Don’t you feel it?”

“What, a voice? No,” the young woman replied.

“That’s not what I meant. I was talking about the… uh, doubts.” She glanced at the room. “It wasn’t as loud before this job.”

“What’s it say?” Piper made eye contact.

“That I’m never going to be fast enough.” She forced a smile and walked away.

“Piper, Dana Woodridge and Max Weston are here,” the detective notified.

^-^

The group stood before the two witnesses, the unsub’s wife and best friend. Piper looked at Hotch, unsure of how they were going to break this to them. Unprompted, Dana Woodridge told them how this kind of thing didn’t happen to them. It happened to others, on the news, while they would eat dinner and sit in shock for half a heartbeat before continuing on with their lives. She swiped at her eyes before continuing about her husband being on his way from home, calling her to say, “We need to talk.” The poor wife didn’t know what to do when her husband didn’t come back home that night. Max laid a hand on the shoulder of his best friend’s wife for comfort and continued for her. They talked about how they filed the missing report the next day, how they were both in combat as army rangers, talked about Mogadishu. He looked away as Dana confided in them about her husband’s behavioural tics. “He has a hard time with loud noises,” Dana explained. “He can’t be in crowds. He has nightmares and wakes up in cold sweats. The smells are the worst. If he smells something burning, Like a barbecue or gas or fire… He gets sick. It really only got bad about a year ago.” Max walked out after Gideon’s intense stare regarding the events in Somalia.

^-^

“Roy and I… We were escorting a UN Aid caravan to a refugee camp. Our convoy was ambushed. The front received heavy fire, but we were in the rear, So we managed to escape. We hid for 2 days in and out of abandoned buildings that. Insurgents were looking for us. One night I was sleeping, Roy kept watch. When I woke up, there was an AK 47 pointed right at me. A child. He, he didn’t know. Couldn’t have been more than 11 or 12.”

“Then what happened?” Gideon asked him.

“We finally found a radio. Fixed it, called for an extraction.”

“Did you put out an S. O. S.?”

“Yeah, we used rocks to put an SOS in the dirt so the Blackhawks could locate us. Look, If this is Roy, you’re not gonna find him. He’s trained and skilled at survival. He knows how to hide.”

“We think he has a gun.”

“Well, he doesn’t miss.”

^-^

“Spence, what are you working on?” Piper asked the doctor poring over his prized map.

“3 days ago, police shut down the freeway at 5 pm for 10 minutes. Cars were stalled and Roy must have tried to exit on the surface streets. Sadly, he ended up in an unfamiliar area with a flat tire. He was changing that tire when an 8 story building on market imploded 5 blocks away. He heard the explosion and reacted as a mortar bomb had landed nearby.”

“This explosion must have triggered his dissociation,” she nodded.

“And since then, he’s been stuck in that state. Running when he needed to, sleeping when he could, camouflaging himself into his surroundings, and hiding from his perceived enemies.”

“He’s reliving the worst moment of his life. He’s gotta be terrified,” she shivered a little as she spoke. Sipping on her cup of tea, she watched Spencer answer his phone.

“Yeah, what do you have?”

_“Why isn’t Derek answering his phone?”_

“He’s probably stuck underground somewhere.”

_“Underground?”_

“I’ll explain later.”

_“Oh, okay, so, I finally got through all those recent police reports he asked me to check, which, by the way, it was no hopscotch through the park, because that precinct you are at is kind of tragically behind on their paperwork.”_

“Yeah, they’re undermanned.”

 _“Oh, Jeez, really? I can’t imagine what that feels like. Oh, no, wait. Yes, I can, 'cause…”_ Piper sensed her going off topic and swiped the phone from Spencer’s ear, putting Garcia on speaker.

“The point, flower assassin?”

“ _Okay, okay, I’m sorry. He told me to look for anything unusual, And it’s all usual. Minor break-ins, apartment burglaries, Televisions, stereos, car thefts, and smash and grabs. Common stuff in the world of burgling.”_

“Nothing a guy lost in the streets might use for survival?”

_“No, nothing reported. As I said, it’s all petty. There’s…um…some vandalism at construction sites. Communications radio missing from one of them.”_

“Wait… Did you say radio?” Reid did that thing where his neurons fired and he came up with something brilliant.

 _“Yeah. Construction Foreman reported that one of their Trucks had been broken into and a hand Held radio was stolen. Yesterday, 12 hours ago, is that what you’re looking for? Reid?”_ He’d already turned the phone off and ran to find Hotch.

^-^

Roy Woodridge is 6 foot 1, 195 pounds and 44 years old. He has brown hair and was a former army ranger. It was imperative they didn’t try to apprehend him alone. He wouldn’t understand what was happening. He may try to defend himself. Piper heard Gideon’s voice as she sat cross-legged on her perch next to the coffee machine. He’s armed, and he’s an excellent marksman. He had a nest of sorts right near every murder scene. Piper tapped her paper cup absently. There was a burglary of a two-way radio from a construction site recently, which could have been Roy since they’d only used UHF radios in the army back then. She faintly heard Gideon say that Roy was looking for help, that he’ll keep trying to contact operations command. Her head snapped up at Hotch’s next instructions.“Detective, can we get a dozen UHF radios set up in this room, and each of them tuned to each of the preset channel frequencies?” With the help of Roy’s best friend, they’d established that they needed to be very careful with the communication. The two friends had set up specific responses to contact OpCom in order to avoid hostile interception and establish 'no danger’ signals, with specific names to identify their squad to the operator. She reminded herself of this like a mantra, going step by step through their profile, as they rushed to the SUVs, wearing her navy Kevlar vest. They would find him. He’d be safe. He’d get help. No-one would get hurt. She rubbed the silver ring on her finger as they drove to the construction site. They would save him.

She hopped out of the vehicle with the others, hand resting on the Glock hooked to her waist. There was no need for discussion. Hotch stood just in front of Piper, Gideon in the front and Derek on the side. It was a silent agreement that Gideon and Max would calm him down, Piper would only step in if absolutely necessary. She was fine with that. They were backed up by a SWAT team and three snipers. The dishevelled army ranger stepped out from the crumbling building in front of them. He’d stepped out with a pistol in his hand, relief in his eyes. The construction worker a few feet away from them started drilling and the next few events were a blur, the only thing certain being Piper’s drumming heartbeat. Gideon yelled at the workers to stop. Roy’s vision blurred. Piper heard squeaking, and a young boy cycled towards them. The ranger whirled back. He yelled for him to get out. “It’s just a boy Sergeant, it’s just a boy.” Roy’s brown eyes glanced back between the armed and the innocent. Before Piper could utter a word, the ranger turned and started running for the boy, Morgan sprinting after him. Piper followed, blood pounding. Before her eyes, the unsub fell to the ground, a bullet ripping through his back, and she ran faster.

“Roy!” she yelled. _No, no, no, no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go._ She slowly turned his body to face her. Blood dribbled across his cheek.

“It wasn’t safe.” Piper felt tears stinging her eyes.

“I know.” The dying man glanced towards his best friend. Piper felt warmth trickle across her palm. 

“Is the boy alright?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Piper replied. A tear lingered under her cheek. “Relax.” She felt the man go limp in her arms, a strong hand on her shoulder. She faintly heard Hotch calling the guys at the station, but still, she didn’t move, her hands still grasping his arms, her watery gaze locked on the sergeant’s glassy eyes.

^-^

Piper was remarkable at compartmentalising. She’d kept her job as a counsellor, despite her mother’s death. She’d kept at her PhD’s despite her father’s disbelief. She’d taught young children, despite volunteering at a hospital where a kid died every week. But this was different. She was afraid to blink, never mind close her eyes, lest she saw that broken man’s glassy eyes. Roy Woodbridge, a name she hadn’t even heard of until this week, had locked onto her gaze, the last face he would see. Was it fair? It should have been Max or Dana. Then he would’ve been at peace, to say the least. She gazed at the building as she sat on the green bench, breaking her gaze only to see the dark SUV in front of her. “I expected you 15 minutes ago.”

“Mustn’t be that good a profiler then.” Hotch took the seat next to her. “Construction’s taking the rest of the day off to honour the victims.”

“You know, the first recorded war was 2700 B.C. Mesopotamia. Probably were earlier wars, but… Writing hadn’t been invented yet. Almost 5,000 years of killing each other,” Piper scoffed, looking at her fingers.

“One thing human beings have been consistently good at,” Hotch noted. “We did everything we could for him, you know.”

“Sometimes knowing that just isn’t good enough.”

“I know.”

^-^

> “If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace,” Thomas Paine.

^-^

Piper was wearing her Harvard sweatshirt and laid out ice cream on her coffee table. Cushions? Check. Ice cream? Check. Comfy clothes? Check. Hot chocolate? Check. The doorbell rang and Piper ushered Spencer in. “Which doctor?”

“Figured we’d start with 4. Your favourite.”


End file.
